Selflessness and Sarcasm
by Penga
Summary: It turns out that it's pretty hard to think straight when you've got a dagger pointed at your heart. Go figure.
1. I Have Come So Far

**Selflessness and Sarcasm**

**Chapter One: I Have Come So Far**

It's rather hard to focus long enough to see your "entire life flash before your eyes" when you have a dagger pointed at your heart. This fact is magnified if you're actually the one _wielding_ the dagger. I couldn't avoid it though. I mused that I must have been like the Christian Jesus everyone was so hung up over, sacrificing myself for another and all. The only difference being that I couldn't imagine miraculously coming back to life after three days.

These are the things you think about before you die. You don't think about your childhood or what you're missing. You think about anything _but _that, in a sort of twisted denial, as if you _weren't_ going to die. But you are. And I am.

"Hurry it along, pharaoh."

I don't understand why people still call me pharaoh, even after all these years. I'm not talking 5 years, more like 5 hundred. You'd think it would have fizzled out by now. Egypt doesn't even _have_ pharaohs anymore. All of the great kings that were once placed in the over-the-top splendor of the pyramids are now either on display as a cheap novelty in any of hundreds of museums or else sitting in someone's basement – another casualty of the black market. E-bay is evil incarnate, and we are all sinners.

Oh, right. The dagger. My heart.

I wouldn't just do this, you know. I'm not suicidal. To be completely honest, in most cases I would probably have just handed the dagger to someone else and told them to drive it through their own goddamn heart. I wouldn't even feel guilty about it the next morning. I'm not really into the whole "sacrificing yourself for total strangers" thing. That's more Yugi's venue.

Yugi…

My kryptonite.

I should have known. I should have known there would be bastards that would take advantage of our bond. It's something that transcends any friendship; we _complete_ one another. We are each just a part of a whole. Take one part away, and the other is left with a stark and painful void. It must be worse for me. I am his guardian, after all. He got along great without me before the whole puzzle ordeal, but I can't remember existing in this plane without _him._

"PHARAOH! Need I remind you of the _stakes_ that are resting on this procedure!?"

When he says "stakes" he means "Yugi's life." If I don't forcibly drive this incredibly sharp steel blade into my heart, Yugi will be brutally killed.

Deep breath.

Life is overrated anyway, I tell myself.

I've cheated death for too long anyway, I tell myself.

…He'll be better off without me anyway, I tell myself.

I raise the dagger above my chest in preparation, and pause long enough to marvel at the intricate craftsmanship. The blacksmith who birthed this deadly work of art must have loved it intensely. The blade is finely polished, glinting even in the low light. The hilt is wrapped in fine purple silks with gold accents at the base of the blade. Precious stones are encrusted in beautiful bands about the handle, though I must admit they are uncomfortable, pushing their imposing sharp edges into the soft pits of my hands. Despite the nameless blacksmith's meticulous design, the dagger isn't very conventional.

Well, here goes.

I won't close my eyes and turn my head. I'll try to be a hero. I have it all planned out: I'll stab myself without a cry, not even a whimper, eyes wide and bold and indomitable. I'll go down with honor, gently dropping to my knees, then fall over to the side. I'll spew some memorable quote as my final words, then slowly close my eyes and draw a ragged last breath.

Yugi has showed me too many movies.

I pull the blade down, quickly, heart racing, eyes flashing. Time slows. I notice my reflection in the steel. I notice the slow decay of the stone bricks that will outlast me. They are chipped and marred and cracked and this universal, bland gray color. I notice my oppressors, and the maniacal grins spreading across their fat faces.

This is where someone should rescue me. Some Robin Hood wannabe should come bursting upon the scene, crying for me to stop. He would then kill the smirking fat faces with a combination of acrobatics, martial arts, and expertly aimed arrows. But this shit doesn't happen in real life. There is no Robin Hood, no prince, no savior. There is no consolation, no comfort of god, no receptive, warm arms to die in.

I notice a searing, piercing pain in my chest. I notice my blood. I never thought I'd see it again. Spirits don't bleed. Ghosts can't die. And yet…

My suffering reaches its zenith. I am not quiet after all. I cry out. My heartbeat is slowing. My body is frantic for circulation. The blood just keeps coming, a constant stream of crimson cascading down my favorite shirt. It's such a shame; this shirt is ruined. Those stains will never wash out of the pretty blue leather.

My eyes slam shut in response to the waves of pain. My brain can hardly process it all. I must look like a weakling. Whatever happened to "going down with honor?" I feel like Harrison Ford would have made for a better performance. I do fall to my knees, but I'm clutching my chest – a largely involuntary action. It's not like holding my wound will stop the bleeding or ease the pain or mend my sutured heart.

I have come so far from the splendor and security of being pharaoh in ancient Egypt. Where are the guards to beat in the heads of my attackers and drag their corpses behind a royal chariot for the entire empire to see? Where are my sorcerers, adept in mending wounds by otherworldly means? Where are my loyal subjects to fawn over me and cry for my suffering? I should be bathed in perfumes and lavish soaps and sympathetic tears, not my own blood.

So how the hell did I _get_ to this point?


	2. The Deadly Booty Call

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Two: The Deadly Booty Call**

So this didn't start on a dreary, rainy day in a dark alleyway while Linkin Park music was drifting from some inexplicable source. There wasn't bloodshed or gang crossfire or massive explosions or demons or monsters or action sequences pulled from an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. It was just me and Yugi at the arcade, at least a month after our physical separation. He was teaching me how to play Pacman, and I was enjoying my second chance to live – _truly_ live – since before my spirit was sealed within the Millennium Puzzle centuries before.

Anyway, we were there, in our own bodies (finally, Jesus), in this old-ass arcade, and it was so much fun. Really, when you recover your own body after years of sharing it with someone else, an act as small as directing a hungry yellow circle through a maze of ghosts and dots is just exhilarating. I was cursing at the machine every time I got ambushed by pixilated ghosts (all in good nature, of course) and Yugi would just watch me and laugh.

But then this bitch comes in, right? I mean, I'm not saying this flippantly… she _was_ a bitch. She was one of those skinny girls with fake boobs and orange tans… you know, one of the girls you would secretly love to fuck but you would never pursue a meaningful relationship with. She's the girl you'd get drunk with and rail and then go get tested for STDs the next day. The type of girl who flirts with everything that has a penis and takes advantage of lesser men with her Cosmopolitan figure and heavily mascara'd eyelashes. She was wearing cotton candy body spray and had blond highlights in her shoulder length, flat-ironed hair. There was nothing surprising about her. I knew what she was going to say and how she was going to sound before she opened her plump, glistening lips.

"Motherfucker! I thought this was the ice cream shop."

The nameless pair of walking tits scanned the arcade with a scrutinizing glare, sizing up the occupants and presumably labeling us all as dorks or geeks or nerds or some other similar adjective. Oddly enough, her gaze rested on me, and she winked. I scowled and turned back to my game. I hated her immediately, but you have to understand… She was wearing one of those V-neck shirts, the kind that was designed to layer with a tank top underneath. But, she wasn't wearing a tank top, it was just her cleavage, and there was a lot of it. Had the shirt been a centimeter lower, her areolas would have probably been exposed. This chick knew how to get what she wanted by manipulating lonely men with her super cleavage. I noticed the mace on her keychain. Smart girl.

She walked up to the prize counter and stuck her ass out and leaned over the glass case displaying cheap stuffed bears and plastic knick knacks and colored pencils and old Gameboy games you could win with prize tickets. She slammed her massive black leather purse up against the counter and rummaged around for her wallet. The poor balding man who ran the arcade just stood there, dumbfounded, trying (and failing) to fix his gaze on anything but the girl's ridiculous tits.

At long length she fished out a designer wallet and presented a credit card with a sly grin before nodding toward the little freezer in the back that sported various small ice cream treats.

"Ask me what I'd do for a Klondike Bar."

A dirty grin spread across the arcade owner's face.

"Would you get coffee with me later?" he prodded. A look of sheer offense planted itself on the bitch's countenance as she slammed the credit card down and moved her hands to her slender hips.

"Hell no you filthy old man, I'd fucking pay for one with my Mastercard."

Defeated, the store owner quickly ran the card and fetched the woman's ice cream bar. She snatched it away after placing her card neatly back in its designated pocket in her wallet, then turned to leave.

But, you know, she didn't just leave. She walked all the way to the door, then she paused, as if she had just remembered something. She fucking paused.

This is important. This is the moment that sealed my fate. She could have forgotten all about everything else that occurred before she paid for that ice cream. She could have been so mad, so caught up in the audacity of the arcade owner that she stormed out, completely blinded by her own rage. But she remembered something. She remembered _me_.

The bitch turned slowly and we made eye contact, and she smiled slyly, and we both knew what she was doing. She strutted up to me and presented a purple sharpie from her purse.

"My name's Michelle," she said warmly.

Michelle took my hand and wrote her number down with the sharpie.

"Call me sometime if you want to have some fun."

Michelle glanced around the arcade then shot a glare at Yugi before returning her gaze to me.

"I guarantee I can be more fun than this old place."

She left in a blur, and I was just shocked. It's like women know. They know a challenge when they see it. Michelle could have easily taken any guy in that arcade home with her, except me. She was clearly a control freak, and suffered from a poor self-image. She needed to know that she could have any man she wanted, 5000 year old reincarnated pharaohs included.

"Wow…" Yugi muttered. I glanced down at the numbers on my hand with disinterest.

"Yeah, that was certainly random," I replied. "Wanna go get some lunch?"

Yugi shrugged and nodded and we left in a hurry. I was happy to be gone and away from the envious glares of the other arcade-goers. What we did the rest of the day is unimportant. I think we ate then went home and watched Family Guy or something, I don't know. What's important is that I began to think about Michelle more and more as the day progressed, and by nightfall, I began to realize just how long it had been since I had gotten laid. I mean, it's embarrassing, really. Lets not get into the exact figures, but suffice to say, I hadn't been touched by a woman in a really fucking long time.

I waited until Yugi fell asleep on the couch, since I wasn't proud of what I was about to do. I figured if I could get away with it without anyone else finding out, it would be in my best interest. I stepped outside and gently closed the Kame Game Shop door behind me, then I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number that screamed at me in permanent purple on my arm.

I half expected it to be fake, but after the call went through there was ringing.

When Michelle answered the phone, a clusterfuck of techno music, a heavy bass, and people yelling raped my eardrums. She had to scream to be even remotely audible.

"HELLO?"

I almost hung up the phone right then and there, and it really would have been for the best. Hindsight is 20/20 you know. But guys, it had been a depressingly long time since I'd had sex. Alright? Don't even pretend that you wouldn't have done the same exact thing in my situation.

"Um… hi, Michelle. This is Yami."

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, YAM-EE? I DON'T KNOW A YAM-EE."

It occurred to me that I hadn't told her my name until that point.

"Oh, erm, we met at the arcade earlier."

For a few moments she didn't reply, and then I heard a door slam behind her. The noise in the background faded a bit.

"Oh, sorry. I'm at a rave. Wanna get slizzard?"

I had no idea what a "rave" or "slizzard" was, and Michelle must have picked up on this when I didn't answer right away.

"Forget it. Come pick me up and we can find something to do. I'm at Oxygen, it's by that new McDonald's on Fourth Street."

I didn't have my own car, but I wasn't about to admit to _that_. I knew where Solomon kept his keys, and I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but I also knew if I got out that night I'd get some tail.

"I'll be there in a minute."

When I pulled up to the club, Michelle was sitting on the curb, wearing ridiculous bright blue eye shadow, a bikini top, a rainbow striped mini skirt and furry, knee-high boots. I rolled down the window and motioned for her to hop inside. She didn't hesitate in getting in the car, despite the fact that we were essentially strangers.

Oh right. Mace on the keychain.

She pulled up her familiar black patent leather bag and retrieved a bottle with no label, drawing a round pill with a smiley face printed on it to her plump lips. This immediately made me uncomfortable, but if Michelle noticed, she genuinely did not give a fuck.

"Your car's a dump," she said at last. I sighed.

"Yeah, it's pretty old. Where do you want to go?"

She tossed me an unsettling mischievous grin, and I immediately wondered what I had gotten myself into.

"I want to go to the fanciest restaurant in Domino!" she exclaimed, waving her arms around for added effect. I grimaced and looked her skimpy outfit over with hesitance.

"Do you want to change first?"

Michelle pouted at me, as if I had deeply offended her.

"What's wrong with my outfit!" she demanded. I waved the notion away quickly.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Initially I tried to take her to Red Lobster, but she complained, insisting it wasn't "fancy" enough. I tried a locally owned Italian restaurant, but she shot this down as well. I was driving around aimlessly, at my wit's end, when Michelle's eyes lit up as she spotted the riverfront L'auberge De L'ill at the end of the street – a classy French bistro. I sank into my seat.

"We would have to have made reservations weeks ago," I pointed out. My unlikely passenger waved my statement away with her slender hand.

"I have connections Yam-ee, don't you worry about it."

I parked and noted how Solomon's old Toyota stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Bentleys, BMWs and Mercedes convertibles. Michelle grabbed my hand unceremoniously and led me into the bistro, pushing her way past men in pressed pin-striped suits and women in elegant, knee-length dresses, all of whom had been standing patiently in line for god knows how long when we came barreling through.

We eventually made it up to the front counter, and I realized how ridiculous we must have looked in that place: me, in my tight leather apparel and she, in her bikini top and furry boots. I was beginning to wonder if we could get arrested for public indecency, when Michelle threw her arms around the head waiter with a chuckle.

"Walter! How have you been?"

The amiable old man returned her embrace, his thin lips curving upward in a warm smile.

"I have been quite well miss Michelle." Here he paused and peered around to study me intensely. I vaguely remembered to shut my gaping mouth.

"Table for two?"

Michelle suddenly broke away from Walter and pushed me forward proudly, like I was a new toy she had just picked up. Looking back on it, there's a lot of unsettling truth in that comparison.

"This is Yam-ee!" she explained brightly. "He's my date!"

"Very well, I'll find a nice table for the two of you. In the meantime, your father is having a chat with mister Kaiba in the south VIP lounge, if you would like to say hello."

I went rigid. Her father? _Kaiba_! I began searching for escape routes. She didn't know my last name, so she couldn't possibly find me if I made a break for it. I tentatively glanced over my shoulder, but the door was obscured by a hoard of rich assholes chit-chatting about stocks and politics and other such bullshit. Panicking, I searched for vents, but the only ones I found were small and narrow. I looked to the puzzle around my neck, trying to think of a way I could travel in the shadow realm.

As I was plotting, Michelle's hand gripped my wrist again and before I could object she was pulling me forcibly through the open dining hall, under ornate crystal chandeliers, over plush cream-colored area rugs, past the mahogany dance floor, and finally through a set of double doors sporting vanity windows made with pretty blue stain glass. To her credit, this certainly _was_ the fanciest place in Domino.

There they were, against a far wall, seated beside a large window that overlooked the churning river below. Kaiba looked up at us first, and his face was completely emotionless as the cogs turned in his brain, trying to make sense of the scene before him. Then his countenance faltered, and he stifled a laugh, and I looked away quickly, hoping that maybe by some miracle I would just drop dead on the spot. Had anyone offered me a dagger to stab myself _then_, I would have taken it happily, without question.

"Daddy!" Michelle exclaimed, skipping over to her father and hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Hello princess!"

Despite the fact that he was noted for his stoicism, Kaiba was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Michelle motioned for me to come over, and I reluctantly agreed. Her dad certainly was intimidating; he was very fat, obviously over-indulgent, and wore a finely pressed charcoal-colored suit with silk pin stripes that revealed themselves if the light hit the fabric in just the right way. His tie was nothing special, just a regular red tie, but I assumed it was hugely expensive, nonetheless. I noted that his skin was dark, and his moustache was black and thick, and he was clearly foreign. It then occurred to me that Michelle's tan wasn't necessarily fake.

"Daddy, this is Yam-ee. He took me out tonight. We met at the arcade."

"Daddy" looked me over critically, and was clearly unimpressed. Still, he held out a meaty hand and I took it fearfully, trying to at least present a solid handshake. He seemed unimpressed with my handshake, too.

And then it dawned on me how fucking ridiculous all of it was. I was just trying to fuck the girl after all; I was hardly looking to impress her goddamn father. I silently swore that if after I finally got her naked her nipples were crooked or she had some other deformity, I was going to just throw in the towel and become celibate.

As I withdrew my hand, I saw a change happen in the face of Michelle's father, some imperceptible flare went off. His brown eyes widened just a bit, and his gaze flitted from my hair, to my Millennium Puzzle, to the rectangular card box hanging off of my belt.

"Why, you're the King of Games, aren't you?" he finally asked.

My only consolation in that moment was seeing the scowl that spread across Kaiba's face at the mention of my one claim to fame.

"Yes, actually. I'm flattered that you noticed."

The fat man slapped his knee and laughed heartily before smacking me squarely on the back as if we were old buds.

"I love watching you in action! Man, every tournament you've been in I was just glued to the TV. Say son, do you know who _I_ am?"

I shuffled uncomfortably on my feet. It's like when some old lady approaches you and claims to be your great aunt and goes on about how she would change your diapers when you were a baby and then asks if you remember her.

"No," I answered honestly.

"Why, I'm Abianes, but everyone just calls me Old Abi. I'm the mayor."

I flinched, and Kaiba looked contented when he saw the look of sheer terror spread across my face. Karma's a terrible bitch, and this is what I got for trying to have a one-night-stand; my "date" ends up being the daughter of the mayor, and suddenly I'm rubbing elbows with men who can ruin my life permanently if I don't keep Michelle happy.

As Abi regarded me fondly and Michelle clutched my arm and Kaiba rolled his eyes at us in disgust, Yugi was sound asleep on the couch in the Kame Game Shop, unaware of the creeping dangers that would soon steal him away.


	3. Sex and Fear

**A/N:** I realize the length of time it took me to publish chapter 2 is just absurd, but I'm weird in that I cling to old fads. I still enjoy reading Yugioh fiction (although it gets hard weeding through all the plotless yaoi), and the other night when I was looking back on some of my old stories, I thought it might be worth it to actually finish them up. Either way, I wanted to thank you guys for reviewing and spurring this on.

Anyway, I'll be bumping up the rating starting now, so be forewarned. Enjoy~

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Three: Sex and Fear**

I won't bore you with too many baseless details. You know what's coming. Abi excused himself to make a "business" call and when Kaiba unsurprisingly seemed uninterested in conversation Michelle suggested (to my relief) that we take that table Walter had prepared for us.

It's not important what we talked about or what we ate. She laughed at me when I couldn't pronounce the names of the dishes on the menu, and again when I didn't recognize the wine she ordered. I don't remember what it was called – some lavish French name that's absurdly long – but it tasted awesome. It was soft and earthy and left a pleasant, fruity echo in my mouth. I took care not to drink _too_ much since I was the one driving, but Michelle didn't bother with such discretion.

Before we got our bills, the mayor's daughter was finishing up her fifth glass of wine. I was thankful when she pulled out her Mastercard to pay for her own meal, as my ticket alone was expensive enough. I was feeling confident as we left the bistro, and I held a firm hand on her bare back to support her as she stumbled into Solomon's car.

"You know Yam-ee, you're the first guy in a while who has actually taken me to eat someplace nice."

I held my tongue when that didn't come as any surprise to me. She didn't present herself as a particularly classy girl, but as the moonlight sifted through the dirty glass of the passenger side window, I took notice of her perfect skin, her deep collarbone, and the flawless, symmetrical curve of her breasts. Still warm from the alcohol, I frowned when I noticed the goosebumps racing up and down her arms. Without thinking, I shed my jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"You look cold," I explained, locking eyes with hers.

They say nice guys finish last.

"They" were wrong.

Michelle lurched forward, pinning her lips to mine. It took me a moment to remember what to do, but like riding a bicycle I picked it back up quickly. I slid my tongue across her lips, and could taste her strawberry lip gloss. Her mouth parted, allowing me entrance, and as our tongues danced I drew an eager hand up to grip one of her tits. I found that regardless of whether or not they were fake, they were still supple and I could feel the nubs that popped up under her bikini top as she became more and more aroused.

Then something carnal within me snapped, some primitive need overtook me, and I broke away, taking her in with hungry eyes. I lowered to the crook between her neck and shoulder and licked a trail down to my target, before biting her skin gingerly. Michelle emitted a moan of approval, which fueled my desire, and as I nibbled and hungrily kissed her slender neck and my right hand massaged her tits, my free hand found its way down her stomach, and I grinned to myself as she trembled beneath my touch.

I reached lower, lower, finally trailing my fingers beneath her skirt. I could feel the wetness through her panties, and this made me even more driven. I quickly pulled down the offensive underwear and began massaging her clit with my index finger, and I watched as the waves of pleasure caused her body to convulse, and I was immensely pleased with myself.

"Ahh-…. Hnn…"

It was music to my ears. As her cries became more desperate, I slowed my rubbing, drawing out the intense moment right before she would have been put over the edge. I pulled away and grabbed her hips tightly, allowing my greedy fingers to graze the curve of her ass, and swiveled her around to face me. My jacket fell to the floorboard, forgotten, as I draped her leg over my shoulder and thrust a finger into her exposed pussy. I curved it upward, finding the delicate spot of pleasure, causing Michelle to arch her back. She dug her fingernails into the car seat and moaned, her hips subconsciously rising up. She wanted more.

I was about to oblige her by squeezing in another finger when I heard laughing behind us. Michelle quickly snapped away and pulled her skirt down, and we both looked around to see who was lurking. Thankfully, it was just some nameless rich couple returning to their car.

"Want to get a hotel room?" I asked hoarsely.

88888888888888888888

When the door slammed behind us, Michelle immediately jumped up and wrapped herself around me, and I quickly reached up to support her legs as I held her, kissing her desperately. She became more frantic as she felt my arousal between her thighs, and I carried her over to the bed. We dropped down unceremoniously, tangled together, all four of our hands searching, clawing, pulling our bodies closer, and it still wasn't close enough.

I fumbled with the knot at the back of her bikini, and finally reasoned to just pull it off, over her head. To my relief, her nipples weren't at all crooked, and to show my approval I sucked on each of them for a moment, but in my desperation I couldn't be bothered to take it slow.

It became apparent that Michelle wanted to quicken the pace as well when she tugged angrily at my shirt, and I stepped back just long enough to pull it off and let it drop to the floor. She splayed her hands over my chest and traced my subtle abs in fascination, until her hands drifted to the "V" at my waist, it's point still obscured by the hem of my pants.

Michelle quickly began making work of the clasps and chains and after several moments to no avail, she growled in frustration.

"Jesus, how many belts are you _wearing_?"

I stifled a blush and helped her unfasten my, perhaps excessive, studded accessories, and my pants fell to the floor to join my shirt.

She must have remembered how I teased her in the car, for when she pulled down my boxers she regarded my length with that now-familiar mischievous grin before licking me slowly from base to tip. I groaned involuntarily, prompting her to laugh breathlessly as she wrapped those plump lips around me, and as she bobbed forward I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and was engulfed in euphoria.

After several minutes, Michelle saw my muscles tense, my jaw clench. She knew, instinctively, that I had reached that plateau, and she drew her mouth away quickly, grinning to herself as I stood there exposed, throbbing painfully, needing release.

"Really..?" I croaked. Michelle answered by fishing a Trojan out of her purse. There was something sexy about the way she ripped the wrapping apart with her teeth, and I groaned once more as she unrolled it slowly, deliberately, over my quivering length.

When we were duly protected, I turned her around and drew her perfectly round ass into the air. I ran my finger along her slit, feeling her wetness, once more relishing the fact that _I _had done this to her. Then I dug my fingernails into her hips, prompting her to moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain. I aligned myself with her pussy, and was grateful when my next words were met with a sly, receptive laugh.

"I hope you like it rough."

88888888888888888888

The next morning Michelle would wake up alone to find that the hotel bill was already paid for. I left a note that read "Check the freezer," where I had placed a jumbo-sized Klondike bar, just for her.

Yeah, I'm a suave motherfucker.

It was around 5 in the morning when I returned to the shop. I was thankful to find that Solomon was still asleep, and against my usual instincts, I didn't make a fuss when Yugi wasn't stretched out on the couch where I left him. I assumed he had woken up at some point with a crick in his neck and sauntered off to bed.

I was still tired myself, so I collapsed in my own bedroom, immensely satisfied, and immediately slipped into the receptive arms of slumber.

88888888888888888888

I was woken up a few hours later by a loud knock at my door.

Grumbling, still shaking the last persistent tendrils of sleep, I opened my door to come face to face with Solomon. I immediately panicked, thinking he must have noticed the missing fuel in his car, or maybe he thought it was suspicious that my jacket was in his floorboard. I was formulating a solid lie when I noticed the concern etched in the wrinkles about his eyes.

"Do you know where Yugi is?" he asked in a strained voice. My heart immediately fell.

"No... have you tried his cell phone?"

Solomon nodded soberly.

From there I called Jounouchi, and Honda, and Anzu, and Ryou, and even went so far as to call Ishizu. When I could think of no other numbers to dial, I took a cab to the arcade. He wasn't there. I checked our favorite restaurant. Nothing. The park, the mall, the boardwalk, the godforsaken grocery store, all barren of my precious Yugi.

When I arrived back at the game shop, holding on to the foolish hope that maybe Yugi had returned home, Solomon was standing tensely outside. He ran up to me as soon as I stepped out of the cab and held out a duel monsters card that I recognized immediately. It was the Change of Heart, but the light side of the angel pictured had been scribbled out with a thick, black permanent marker.

"I found this on his pillow…" Solomon choked.

I balled my fists angrily and I knew then what had happened. I knew who had taken my hikari away from me.

"_Bakura."_


	4. Taking the Bait

**A/N:** A lot of Yami's cruelty may seem too OOC to be even remotely believable, but if you need just a shred of evidence to suggest that he was a heartless bastard before Yugi influenced him, watch Season 0. I _liked _that Yami, back when he didn't take shit from anyone. Yet, there was always some sort of twisted righteousness to his acts of terrible violence. _That's_ what I want to convey; under the sarcasm and over-the-top bullshit, I want to bring back the side of Yami that is ruthless toward those who are undeserving of his mercy.

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Four: Taking the Bait**

Ryou answered the phone in a fearful voice. He must have suspected his darker half was behind Yugi's disappearance.

"Have you found him yet?"

"No," I replied sullenly, "but I need to know where Bakura is."

Ryou was quiet for long enough to make me uncomfortable. I trusted that he had a good heart, but I knew his actions were probably dictated, at least in part, by the tomb robber and his threats. Without Yugi around to remind me to be compassionate, my patience waned, and my tone dropped to a dark, throaty growl – something that, in hindsight, kind of scared _me_ a little.

"_Listen_ Ryou, I don't have _time_ for this bullshit. I can personally guarantee that I can overpower any hollow threats that the tomb robber has made. Just… just tell me what you know. I have to find Yugi. I have to find him _now_."

"I'll tell you where Bakura is… but… but how _dare _you make assumptions. You have no earthly _idea_ what I've been through."

I immediately felt a pang of regret for speaking so harshly to Ryou, but I was too preoccupied to apologize.

"He stays at Rabbit Ridge, in apartment 310," the mild-mannered boy confessed at length. I hung up the phone and grabbed Solomon's keys on the way out.

"I know where he is," I muttered shortly. If the old man replied or made any motion to stop me I didn't pay attention. I knew I had to work fast.

It was a shady apartment complex to be sure. Belying the pleasant name, I didn't think a rabbit would come within 2 miles of the dark place. There were cheap, concrete steps that led up to the various floors with a rusted wrought iron guardrail snaking its way around the pathways. All of the doors were in dire need of a new paint job, and there was trash _everywhere._ Soggy Wal-Mart sacks, discarded pill bottles, crushed soda cans of every shade and old Doritos bags lined the parking lot, in which there were at least 3 non-functioning vehicles raised up on jacks.

In spite of my worry, I mused that the rent must have been divvied out to the landowner in blowjobs rather than actual cash.

I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable battle ahead. I thought of various effective ways to make Bakura suffer before I killed him. It then occurred to me that killing _anyone_ would upset Yugi, which in turn reminded me why I was there in the first place.

I was halfway up the third flight of stairs when a bald Mexican guy in a wife beater left his apartment and slammed the door behind him. He paused as he passed me, and I was an idiot to let my guard down. I was in the shadiest corner of filth in Domino, and yet I was still surprised when the bald man yanked my hair back and pointed the mouth of a gun into my spine.

"Hey homie, I like that chain," he said in a low growl. I sighed inwardly. I knew that somewhere, through the ozone layer, past the cosmos, in some divine plane of existence beyond planets or stars or recognizable matter, was a bored god laughing his ass off at my terrible luck.

"Oh yeah?" I replied evenly. "This old thing? I don't need it. Please, it's all yours."

"I thought so," the skinhead muttered victoriously. He made the mistake of lowering his pistol, and I immediately spun around and slapped the weapon out of his hand, sending it flying to the landing below. I then tapped the dark power of the Millennium Puzzle, determined to cleanse the world of one more stupid asshole. My aggressor was wordlessly mesmerized by the Sennen eye on my forehead, and before his shallow mind could process how to react, his soul was lost to the shadow realm. His empty shell of a body toppled down the flight of stairs, his head harshly hitting the guardrail on the way down. I winced as I heard part of his skull crack, and again when I saw the blood trickling onto the dirty concrete.

All in all, the skinhead's death was pretty low on my care meter. I shrugged it off, some part of me relieved that Yugi wasn't around to watch with those pitiful, disappointed eyes. I took a moment to snatch up the pistol that had fallen and I tucked it away in the back hem of my pants where my jacket would safely conceal it. Filled with renewed vigor, I sprinted the rest of the way to apartment 310 and took a deep breath.

I didn't just knock on the door politely. No, before I rescued Yugi from Bakura's grasps I was determined to ruin his apartment (not that it could have looked much worse). Drawing power from the golden artifact that was once my prison, I beat the door down, sending it skidding across the dingy living room carpet. Bakura was sitting coolly on an uneven, rickety couch, his arms and legs crossed expectantly. He didn't flinch as his front door collided with the fridge on the opposite end of the room.

I snatched Bakura up by his collar, and if I was livid before, I was made even angrier when he didn't wipe that smug grin off his face.

"Where's Yugi!" I demanded. Bakura began to laugh, and I threw him onto the floor.

"Don't bother with your goddamn games Bakura. If you tell me where Yugi is, I _might_ let you live."

The former tomb robber scoffed at me and rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his pants in feigned disinterest.

"Believe it or not, _pharaoh_, I don't have your Yugi."

"Stop stalling you unspeakable bastard and _tell_ me where he is_!_"

"Just think of me as a negotiator," Bakura drew out slowly. "I was paid a large sum of cash to make sure you get to where you need to go… but I have to tie you up and 'escort' you myself. Turns out my employers seemed to think I was the only person qualified to handle you."

I chuckled at this.

"That's pretty funny, tomb robber. Good luck with that."

I must admit, I had underestimated Bakura's abilities just a fraction. After uttering that smug little comment, the white-haired bastard kicked me in the gut with enough force to send me flying across the room where I dented the wall behind me. It took me a moment to catch my breath. I straightened, ignoring the pain in my spine, and decided to try a different approach. Normally I would have let my pride get the best of me, but I knew that I just didn't have the time to fuck around with ancient enemies.

"Listen," I began hoarsely, still clutching my stomach, "forget all this cryptic bullshit. The last time I checked, you weren't a goddamn mercenary. If you tell me where Yugi is and who is holding him, I can make it worth your while."

Bakura sneered, clearly unconvinced that I had anything he could want.

"Look," I continued, "I'll give you all the cash in my wallet and even throw in this pistol I got off some asshole who assaulted me in the parking lot."

I held the pistol by the barrel out toward Bakura, the handle facing him. He looked down at it, apprehensive, and then finally snatched it away.

Bakura reveled at the firearm, turning it over and over in his hands, at least marginally pleased with his new acquisition. He pointed the gun at me slyly, but we both knew it would be pointless to shoot. The Millennium Puzzle allots me quite a few defensive maneuvers. To shoot at me would have done nothing but further disrupt the other apartment dwellers.

"Fine," Bakura muttered at length. "You're right, I don't need to adhere to anyone's rules, and this pistol could be nifty for a future 'project' of mine. Now fork over the cash."

"I'll give you the cash when you tell me where Yugi's captors are."

Bakura lowered the pistol and dragged a skinny hand through his unruly hair.

"The mayor and his brother have Yugi. They're waiting in the old Wal-Mart building on the south end of town."

My brows drew together in confusion. I was thoroughly put off by this revelation.

"Old Abi!_?_ Why _him_?"

"Look _pharaoh_," Bakura spat impatiently, "I told you what you wanted to know. I'm not your _confidante_. Now where's that money you promised?"

I tossed over my wallet and quickly bolted out of the – now ruined – doorframe, leaving a sneering Bakura behind to his own devices. I carefully stepped over the sticky pool of blood left by my skinhead friend, not wishing to get my boots dirty. It struck me how nonchalant I had been about ending a man's life. I _knew_ Yugi wouldn't approve. And though I strove to make my hikari happy, there were certain morals he clung to that I could never agree with, the first and foremost being that no one deserves to die, not even those who would kill _him_.

I wondered if Yugi would ever speak to me again after I wrung Abi's thick neck.

I floored it all the way to the abandoned Wal-Mart and burst into the warehouse, filled with this vigor, this _hunger_. I could feel the adrenaline, the _power_ coursing through my veins. I felt primitive, animalistic, and deeply pissed off. Anyone who made the mistake of stepping between me and Abi would have had their heads ripped off then and there, and lets not even get into what I had in store for the shady old mayor with the slut daughter.

I bolted down the hallway, too livid and anxious to bother with stealth. I heard other voices, and headed in that direction, holding on to at least one shred of coherent thought that dictated I take cover behind a towering empty shelving unit upon drawing too close. The voices stopped, and I recognized Abi's voice. I also recognized the strained concern in his tone.

"Bakura? If that's you, you're pretty late. There are a lot of charges I could have you thrown in prison for, you know."

That's when that aforementioned "shred of coherent thought" dissipated into the boiling pool of anger that had drowned my brain. Being mistaken for the tomb robber was the last straw for me. I thought, to hell with it, I might as well just run in, nuke the place, get Yugi and get out.

"No," I whispered darkly, just loud enough for Abi to hear. "I'm _not_ Bakura."

I slowly stepped around the shelving unit, and my eyes narrowed when I didn't see Yugi anywhere in sight. It was just Abi and some other guy, presumably his brother. The nameless stranger was equally as fat as the mayor, but had a rounder, boyish face, made even creepier by his stark lack of facial hair. But what really stood out about this new fatass was the eye-patch he wore. A million degrading jokes flitted through my mind.

"Hey Abi, surprised to see me again? Sorry I left so suddenly the other night, I had to take a few minutes to fuck your daughter. Say, who's this ass pirate you have with you?"

I was just a little shaken when my comments didn't seem to rattle Abi at all. Adversely, he looked a little amused. I fucking hated him for that. He was smirking in the face of certain death, after all.I _did_ fully intend to kill him.

"Ah, the King of Games," Abi began, opening his arms in mock welcome. "The pleasure's all mine. Listen, I try to be a pretty… _open-minded_ father, so I don't much get into my daughter's personal life. And this handsome fellow here-" Abi motioned to the fatass with the eye patch, "-is my brother, Khaba."

I shot a scowl in Khaba's direction. He smiled back warmly, and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Well, since the lovely introductions are out of the way, _where's Yugi!" _I spat.

Abi turned to Khaba and they shot each other knowing glances, and I _loathed_ them for toying with me like they were, and for stealing Yugi away in the dead of night, and for keeping him apart from me. Since the fat bastards were proving to be uncooperative I was sorely tempted to kill them and look for Yugi on my own. But then I saw something glimmer from under Khaba's eye patch.

When I looked harder, I could make out the impression of a sennen eye.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"The ass pirate has the Millenium Eye?"

Khaba smirked at me and tugged on the eye patch, revealing the golden relic underneath. Sure enough, the artifact was securely lodged in his eye socket.

"How else would I have known you would go out with Michelle last night?"

The blood in my veins ran cold. I knew what he was saying, but I refused to believe it.

"You had no way of knowing that," I countered. "You would have to have been there with me, at that moment, to know what I was thinking. I'm not an idiot."

"Hm, but you _didn't _notice me at the arcade."

I opened my mouth to say something, then faltered, and squeezed my jaw tightly shut. My lungs were constricting. I felt sick. Had this been the plan all along?

"Why! Why would you do all of this? What's the fucking point! Do you want my Puzzle? Take it! What the hell is worth all of this bullshit? Why did you take Yugi?"

Abi was still wearing that shit-eating grin, and Khaba was the one who explained the situation coolly, as if we were at a business meeting. He examined his cuticles as he went along, trying to downplay the sweat dripping from the folds hanging from what might have been a neck.

"Yami, we hardly want your gaudy necklace," Khaba began. "What really makes you strong is your very essence; your gift as pharaoh, if you will. There is a reason why ancient Egyptians worshipped pharaohs as gods. They were truly powerful, as you are."

My eyes widened in horror. I wondered how in the hell they knew so much about me. Khaba must have peered into my thoughts, for his next statement answered my question.

"We're not idiots. Abi here noticed Yugi's change in stature whenever he would duel on national television, and he recognized the eye on the boy's Puzzle. The Domino museum is chocked full of wonderful information regarding that Sennen eye, although the true prize was stepping into Ishizu's mind. Through her I gathered the truth about you, and how you and Yugi had been physically separated. Abi and I just want a fraction of your power, just enough to off anyone who gets in the way of our politics without leaving any evidence behind, you know? How satisfying is it to sever a man's soul from his body and not pay the consequences? No fingerprints, no blood, just a clean job. People would probably assume my opponents died of heart attacks or something similar."

For some reason, while Khaba rattled on about the obvious benefits of being able to seal peoples' spirits in the Shadow Realm, I thought back to the skinhead I had left facedown on the cold concrete at Rabbit Ridge, and it occurred to me that maybe I was as twisted as the shallow men before me.

"I knew neither of us could take you," Khaba continued, jarring me from my thoughts, "so I stalked you guys for a while and noticed that you were always at Yugi's side. It was obvious that _he_ was the key to getting what we wanted, so I sent Michelle into that arcade, knowing you would take the bait thanks to my dear brother and his new eye. That night gave us the window of opportunity we needed to get Yugi and set all of this up. And now you'll do everything we ask if you want that boy to live."

The adrenaline subsided. The raw energy that had pulsed through me mere minutes before faded away. Still, I maintained a look of skepticism.

"I won't agree to anything until I know that Yugi is safe," I uttered darkly.

Abi called someone up on his phone.

"Yeah, it's me. He's here. Let the boy say something."

Abi set it to speaker phone, and I could hear shuffling from the other end of the line. And then Yugi's broken voice emanated from the speakers.

"Help! Please, somebody…"

"Aibou!" I cried, running toward the phone as if my hikari might materialize beneath it.

"…Yami! Hmmph! MMmm!"

Yugi's voice was muffled again. It was clear that whatever hired goon was holding him had gagged him once more. Abi ended the call.

"There you have it," the mayor said. "Yugi is alive, and will remain so, as long as you cooperate. If you don't-" here Abi's dark eyes flashed dangerously, "-my associate will shoot Yugi right in the temple as soon as I give the go-ahead."

I could feel the hope drain from my body. I hated myself for dropping to my knees in submission, but the overwhelming weight of what was happening came down on me with unbearable force. I was weak. They had won.

Khaba smiled at my defeated posture and walked over to a leather satchel that had, until that point, been sitting unnoticed in a dark corner. From its depths he retrieved what looked to be a dagger. The dagger with a purple hilt.


	5. Black

**SEFLLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Five: Black**

I'll spare you the intricate details of the fat brothers' devious plot and just sum it up for you. Since they knew I'd be dead soon, they were quite happy to let me know _why_ I was dying. Apparently they're descendants of Egyptian royalty, and somehow, because of their lineage, would be able to harness my powers as pharaoh. Come to think of it, they _do_ look Egyptian.

Anyway, all they need is my blood. I sarcastically asked if I could just give a harmless donation like people do at blood banks, to which the rich fat fucks informed me that I needed to do the draining myself, so I could "truly draw my power from my blood." Also they said they wanted me dead anyway so that I couldn't come back and kick their asses. Pussies.

So the final deal was that I'd stab myself, infuse my draining blood with power, and once they had the blood and were able to demonstrate the power they wanted, they'd let Yugi go. Of course this is sort of sketchy in that I could be dead by the time Yugi gets set free, but it didn't take long for me to realize that I just didn't have a choice.

So here I am. I spend just _one_ night hooking up with a random bitch, and this is where it lands me. My sex life must be cursed or something.

At long length, we have come full circle.

The dagger is still buried up to its hilt in my chest, and Khaba has stopped jeering at me long enough to hobble over and hold a bowl out to catch the crimson stream. It just hurts so damn much. I didn't anticipate this. I should be oblivious to the pain in my righteous efforts to sacrifice my own life so that an innocent may continue with his… but god damn, it still hurts. The core of the pain is this stabbing, ceaseless ache that hovers right where my heart is, but there are tendrils of agony that spread out from my chest to envelope my entire body in this universal prickling sensation that feels like I'm being poked by a million needles. How can so much pain stem from just one wound!

My vision is getting… blurry. Oh god, I sound cliché. Khaba's face has lost all detail and is now just a giant flesh-colored circle that resembles a tumor. My breath… shallow.

Oh god. This is scary. I didn't think it would be so…

I mean, I'm usually so indifferent. So confident, even in the face of certain death, but…

_Shit._

Khaba just pulled out the dagger and…

That's it. I can't hurt anymore than I do now. I'm overloaded, getting numb. I welcome the numbness. I look up, the sick fucks have syringes. _They're injecting my blood into their veins._

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

Without the blade to quell the wound, my blood is pouring out freely now, like a faucet. It's unnerving, just to look down and see it, and the bowl is still there, collecting what little is left, and if I look up the fat bastards who got me into this predicament are shooting up _my_ power, and the last thing I'll feel is this awful wave of nausea.

Wait… no… the last thing I'll feel is this… this…

…_anger._

The dagger is beside me. I was sealed in an inanimate object before, right? Granted, the entire process was pulled off via powerful sorcerer magic and at least a handful of human sacrifices, but it can't be _that_ hard… can it?

My breath is… short. Short like my life expectancy. Fuck my dark sense of humor.

I shakily pick up the dagger and use my remaining strength to focus… focus…

There's nothing. I can't do this. Oh god oh god I'm not strong enough.

But I _have_ to. I can't let corrupt politicians ruin peoples' lives with my power. And Yugi, what about him?

_Yugi._

Okay, it's just like… like receding into the Millennium Puzzle. Except I have to recede into this goddamned dagger. Same principle.

_Focus._

I can feel it, I think. I feel myself being torn away from my body. Either my plan is working or… or this is death.

Fuck, I can't tell the difference. Either way, I'm terrified.

I can't… my lungs can't…

I can't see… oh god… oh _shit_.

My heart should be beating faster… It should…

God damn it I don't want to go. I just got a chance to finally _live_, and now…

Now there's nothing, just…

Just…

…_black._


	6. The Glass Negotiator

**SEFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Six: The Glass Negotiator**

Yami was dead.

Yugi knew this, but he sought confirmation anyway. After his captor got the phone call, he kicked Yugi over unceremoniously and untied his bindings. Yugi snatched off his gag and struggled backwards, perspiration heavy on his brow. His former captor was gathering his things, ignoring Yugi entirely, and a foreign rage filled the thin boy at being taken so lightly.

"Where's Yami!"

The hired goon paused and leered at Yugi with a tired glare.

"He's dead kid. Go home."

With that, the gruff man left.

Yugi was empty. He collapsed, shaking violently, his bangs clutched in his pale fingers. The sobs came in waves - racking heaves that enveloped his entire form and left him powerless to his own grief. Yugi stayed there for hours, unmoving, just punching the floor and crying until his knuckles were swollen with splinters and his eyes were puffy and raw.

When Yugi had purged all emotion into the empty old building, he slowly crawled to his feet, adopted a blank, unseeing expression, and sauntered home.

The days that followed ran together. Yugi was a shade of his former self, just this wholly apathetic, gray individual. A part of him still burned to know the details of his capture and Yami's death, but he couldn't will himself to investigate the issue any further.

Yugi was pulled from his emotionless trance by a soft knock at his bedroom door. It was his grandpa.

"Yugi, come see me for a moment my boy. I think you may have a visitor."

Yugi automatically rose to his feet and pulled open the door to regard Solomon with a blank expression. It pained the old man to see his grandson so grieved, but for the life of him he didn't know how to make things any better, so he just pretended that nothing had ever happened, hoping to get Yugi back into his old routine.

"It's this girl," Solomon continued, "she has been standing outside for hours now, pacing around, looking worried. I think she's a friend of yours, probably wanting to visit you… but she just looked so shy."

"I'll go talk to her," Yugi replied.

The tortured boy had no idea who it was. He knew it wasn't Anzu; she had already visited multiple times. He wasn't particularly close to any other girls. Yugi didn't care though. She could have been the most wanted serial killer in the entire world and he wouldn't have cared.

When he stepped outside and looked beside him, his brow drew together in confusion.

"What are you doing out here?" Yugi asked dully.

The girl gasped, obviously startled by his presence. She was clutching a patent leather bag. Yugi distantly noted that her flat-ironed, bleached-blonde hair and massive tits seemed vaguely familiar.

"I'm Michelle… we met at the arcade a while back."

Yugi cocked an eyebrow. He _did_ remember her. Then his gaze fell.

"If you're here for Yami, he's… gone."

"I know," Michelle replied quickly. "I mean… I heard that he was murdered. And this is weird, and you're going to think I'm insane but… I think his ghost was trying to reach me or something."

Yugi had finally heard it all. He was sick of everyone's shit, he was sick of others talking about his yami as if they had known him at all. Yami had only opened up to Yugi, and he alone. The small boy was protective of the former pharaoh, even after his death.

"Look, I just want to be left alone," Yugi muttered.

He had turned to leave when Michelle spun him around and looked into his eyes intensely, pleadingly. She pulled a dagger from her giant black purse. It still had dried blood on the blade. Yugi's eyes widened a bit.

"I think this might be the knife that killed him," Michelle said breathlessly. "I found it in my dad's office… I don't know why it was there, but… it has been _talking_ to me. It's a voice… _his _voice… and he said you'd be here, and that I should give this to you."

Yugi slowly picked up the dagger. He fixated on the dried red blood that still marred the blade. He felt sick. He needed to know more.

"Michelle, what…?"

"I just want to be done with this, okay!" the girl sputtered suddenly. Then she ran off.

As if Michelle's confusing encounter wasn't taxing enough, Bakura was next to appear. He stepped out of the shadows and pulled Yugi around the corner, only to hold a gun to his head. Yugi froze.

"Be quiet, my pet," Bakura spat.

"What do you want!"

Bakura jeered down at his prey, the satisfaction etched clearly on his angular features.

"I want to break you, Yugi. This whole situation is so hilarious, you've just missed the best part, is all. Here, I'll explain the joke to you."

Bakura tightened his hold on the pistol. Yugi shuddered involuntarily and swallowed hard.

"Are you familiar with the definition of irony, Yugi?"

When Yugi was silent, the playful grin dropped from the former tomb robber's lips.

"ANSWER ME!"

"I… yes, I know what it means," Yugi sputtered.

"Then you should be interested to know that your precious pharaoh gave me this gun in return for information about your whereabouts."

Yugi stifled a laugh.

"Yami didn't own a gun," he retorted. Bakura sneered.

"You're right. He _didn't_ own a gun... at least not until he killed its previous owner on the way to my apartment."

Yugi inhaled sharply and balled his hands into fists. He didn't want to believe it.

"You're lying!" he spat. "Yami would _never _kill anyone!"

"Without you around to be the little angel on his shoulder, you'd be surprised at what the pharaoh would do. But regardless of whether or not you believe me little Yugi, I still think it would be a satisfying way to get the last laugh against Atem by shooting you in the head with the same weapon he bartered to save you. It's funny, isn't it?"

And with that, Bakura pulled the trigger.


	7. A Fine Line

**A/N:** The last two chapters are particularly short because originally they were a single chapter, but I wanted the break from Yami's stream of consciousness to be more obvious and jarring, so I uploaded them separately. I'll also point out that I was sorely tempted to end this story with a bullet in Yugi's head, but there's more that needs to be told, and I'm a sucker for semi-happy endings. We'll see what happens.

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Seven: A Fine Line**

As it turns out, the little stunt I pulled on my death bed (or death _floor_ in this case) worked, and I was able to seal my spirit within that infernal dagger, partially because I'm so powerful but mostly because I'm just that awesome.

I know what you're thinking though; why wait until my poor aibou was milliseconds away from eating lead before making my big entrance? Well, I wanted to interject at the perfect moment, cementing the fact that I am a badass. Not _only _a badass, but also a suave motherfucker.

Beyond that, it took me a while to figure out how to work this thing. It's not like the Millennium Puzzle you know, it was never designed to hold a 5000-year-old spirit inside. I don't even have a soul room in here, it's just universally black and while I'm within it I just sort of float. It's a level of boring that you could never comprehend. At least in the Puzzle I could wander around and explore the Escher-esque labyrinth for hours on end. I had interesting things to hold my attention, like death traps and hidden monsters. Such fun!

I'm getting off track here. Where was I?

Oh yes. Bakura pulled the trigger.

And right in that moment, I took over Yugi's form and stopped that infernal bullet in mid-air. You should have seen Bakura's face when it dropped to the ground. Priceless.

"Pharaoh…? No, it can't be. You're dead! How the hell are you alive?"

"Surprised to see me?"

Oh man. It's so great to be out of that stupid dagger. I can feel the cool air against my skin. I can smell the distinct scent of city life – a heavy mixture of car exhaust, cigarette smoke and fast food. My eyesight is crisp and welcoming to the low light of the afternoon, and the setting sun casts an orange glow across everything. Nothing could dampen my mood in this moment, much less the tomb robber and his never-ending struggle to destroy me and everything I've ever held dear.

"Yes… I _am_ surprised to see you. God damn it pharaoh, are you immortal?"

I sneered.

"Maybe. I could ask the same of _you_, you know. I think I'll find out."

With that, I held out my hand and an orb of pulsating dark energy formed from my open palm and shot with blinding speed into the chest of Bakura. He went flying back, finally colliding with the brick wall behind him. When his eyes fluttered open he grimaced, and I could see the blood coating his teeth.

I was poised to hit him again when I felt Yugi's essence fighting for control. He probably has no idea what's going on. I'll let Bakura go, for now. I toss one last threatening glare in his direction before dodging behind the alley corner. I can't hold control much longer, so I'll just have to deal with the tomb robber another time. I dart inside the Kame Game Shop and up to Yugi's room, and I relinquish my control, only to project myself beside him in spirit form, just like old times. I miss my body, but this will have to do for now.

Yugi's just staring at me, and it's a bit off-putting. I expected a warm, teary-eyed welcome, but there's this foreign hopelessness in his eyes that doesn't settle well with me.

"You're not real," he manages at length.

Of course. This could easily be another trap. He _shouldn't_ trust me right away. Smart boy.

I decide to condense our history into a heart-warming little speech. He'll know it's really me.

"Don't believe it's me? If I was an imposter, would I know that we first met when you pieced together the Millennium Puzzle and you wished for a friend? Since then we have gone on to accomplish incredible things by working together. Recently, Abianes and his brother arranged to… _distract_ me for a night – the same night you were kidnapped. They promised your safety in return for my blood, which is apparently powerful to them. They made me kill myself with this dagger, and in my final moments I managed to seal my soul within it."

I pause to step forward and place an ethereal hand on Yugi's shoulder. His façade is faltering. The light is returning to his eyes. Still, I see him flinch at the contact, and I know he needs some final confirmation of my legitimacy.

"Aibou… I've _missed_ you."

This does it. He lunges forward to hug me… and he passes right through. I let out a world-weary sigh as Yugi turns around in frustration.

"Your body…" he begins. I finish the thought for him.

"…is ruined. I suppose we're back the way we were."

Yugi runs a trembling hand through his hair. He looks ragged, overwhelmed. I want to hold him and comfort him and make him forget all of his worries, but my spirit form is just worthless.

"Yugi… I think we should pay Ishizu a visit before we do anything else. I need my own body."

He nods in silent agreement.

Ishizu is where she always is, tucked away in the back of the Domino museum presumably doing dull, menial tasks like brushing the dust off of bits of ancient pottery or completing the crossword in the Sunday paper. When she sees Yugi, her only act of acknowledgement is a small, nearly imperceptible nod of her head. She's so damn stoic. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen her smile.

Subconsciously I note that if she's so uptight while in the public eye, she must be kinky as all hell in bed. I quickly push this thought away. That's another pursuit, for another time.

"Yugi, I heard about what happened to the pharaoh. I am deeply sorry for your loss."

Her words are hollow and emotionless. Had I been the one in control, I would have rolled my eyes. Yugi, being polite as he is, just smiled nervously.

"Actually Ishizu, that's why I'm here. It's a long story, but before Yami… died, he managed to seal his spirit within this dagger." Here my hikari draws the blade from his backpack and Ishizu regards the relic with mild interest. "We were hoping you could help us by building a body for him once more and transferring his essence over."

A dark film settled on the Egyptian woman's countenance. She turned her stony gaze away and began detachedly studying some ancient tools displayed behind a glass casing.

"Yugi…" she began, "I cannot simply revive the pharaoh every time he is in peril. It's… morally unsound. Death is an ordeal we must all face; there are no exceptions. The pharaoh served his given purpose a year ago in quelling the ancient terrors that threatened to ravage this world, and I aided him in any way I could. But now… I no longer take responsibility for his safety. It is the nature of life."

I was about to take over and chew her out for being stupid, when my aibou took a threatening step forward. I cocked an eyebrow. This could be interesting.

"Don't be ridiculous Ishizu, Yami's chances at having a normal life were ruined 5000 years ago, and after all the sacrifices he has made to keep us safe, he deserves a second chance to just… _live_."

Before Yugi could continue his onslaught, I took control. Ishizu noticed. She always does.

"Besides that," I drew out deliberately, "it's your fault I'm in this predicament anyway."

It was Ishizu's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh?" she prompted.

"Yes, you unwittingly relinquished my information to the mayor and his brother Khaba when they paid the museum a visit. You failed to notice the Millennium Eye under Khaba's eye patch, and he had no trouble using it to peer into your thoughts and draw out all of my secrets. Besides that you insufferable woman, you wouldn't be 'reviving' me. I pretty capably saved my own ass, as you can plainly tell. I just need a new body, is all."

Ishizu shifted uncomfortably and drew a quivering hand to her forehead, as if searching for the gap through which my information was drawn from her.

"While that may be true pharaoh," she began at length, "you are asking me to dip into dark magic for the second time. This isn't a process to be taken lightly. Were this incantation to fall into the wrong hands…"

"It won't," I interrupted.

An uneasy silence stretched between us. Finally Ishizu bore into me with those icy daggers she has for eyes and I just knew from the depths of my gut that the next thing she said would be bad.

"Pharaoh, I was able to reconstruct your last body from your ancient mummified remains. I cannot simply create something from nothing. If you want your body back, you'll have to retrieve it from your attackers.

I went rigid. There was no telling how the fat brothers disposed of my abused body. I could practically feel Yugi's mental presence shudder at the thought of seeing my lifeless form. A thousand questions raced through my mind…

Where could I find Abianes?

How could I get him to tell me what he did with my body?

Is it even worth it…?

Yugi took over for the walk home. I took that time to float in the darkness of my dagger prison and search my mind for the right answer. If I pursued this now, I would be putting Yugi in harm's way again. But if I didn't… he would never have a moment of true privacy for the rest of his life.

When we were secure in Yugi's bedroom I took my spirit form and appeared before him. I could see the anxiety etched on his tired features. I extended a transparent hand to rest on his cheek as he regarded me sadly.

"What do you want?" he asked at length.

It was a simple question, and a good one. The truth was, I wanted whatever _he_ wanted. My own happiness hinged on _his_ happiness. I stepped back and growled in irritation, thoroughly fed up with my own rotten luck.

"I mean… I should be more specific," Yugi began. "You were so happy to have your own body, and you know I wouldn't hesitate to help you get it back. But if you don't want to face Abianes and Khaba again, I understand, and we can just go back to the way things were in the beginning."

The ghost of a smile spread as I marveled at Yugi's seemingly infinite compassion.

"To be honest aibou, I'm torn. On one hand, I could retrieve my own body and you would be able to resume life as a normal person, without the burden of housing a second entity. Yet, if I face the mayor and his brother again while we share a body, I will by extension be putting you in harm's way.

"On the other hand, if I say 'screw it' and just dwell within you for the rest of your life, you'll be safe, but you'll always be held back by my presence and…"

I was cut off by Yugi's laughing. I wondered what the hell was so funny.

"Yami… you've spent your entire long, strange existence making sacrifices for others. This is _your_ decision. I genuinely just want you to do whatever would make you happiest."

I turned to my hikari and grinned, my mind made up.

"Lets get my body back."


	8. Businessmen

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter 8: Businessmen**

Yugi had naively suggested simply hopping in the car and driving to Abi's mansion. It was a landmark in Domino, a looming, 3-story white edifice that attempted to imitate the White House itself. People would pass Abi's property on their daily commute and say to their passengers: "That's where the mayor lives!"

"We can't just ring his doorbell and hope he cooperates," I pointed out. As Yugi continued to mull over the situation thoughtfully, a realization struck me like a brick to the face.

"Abianes and Kaiba were having lunch the night you were kidnapped."

Yugi peered at me speculatively.

"How did you know that?"

Well fuck, there's no use in lying at this point. I straightened myself and ran a nervous hand through my transparent hair.

"Well… you remember Michelle, right?"

"Yeah… she's the one who dropped off the dagger."

"Right. Well, I was eating dinner with her that night when we bumped into Kaiba."

Yugi cocked an eyebrow.

"I didn't really think she was your type…"

"She's not," I responded quickly. "We were just… I mean…"

Yugi looked at me intently, eager for me to finish my sentence, when the reality finally dawned on him. He cringed in disgust.

"You had a one night stand! With Abianes' _daughter!_"

I shifted uncomfortably on my heels and stared hard at my ghostly feet, determined not to make eye contact. I expected a mini lecture on the dangers of sex outside of wedlock, or something similarly self-righteous, but instead Yugi burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

"I'm glad you think this whole situation is so hilarious."

Yugi glanced up at me, his voice constricted between bouts of breathless chuckles.

"It's so ridiculous! All of this could have been avoided if you weren't so…" Yugi trailed off here. I guess he was trying to think of a word more appropriate than "horny."

I imagined that my face was as red as a damn tomato.

"I know, I know. Look, I'm not proud of what I did, alright? I was a little desperate."

Yugi straightened himself, and when he spoke he had a deep, throaty voice, clearly mocking an announcer. He held an invisible microphone to his face and made a dramatic, sweeping gesture toward me.

"Yami, the indomitable King of Games, faces his greatest opponent yet: boobies!"

"That's very mature, aibou."

"Boobies activated their trap card!"

I was completely dumbfounded at this point. My hikari, whom I had revered for being so levelheaded and innocent, was making ridiculous lowbrow tits jokes at my expense. I refused to let this slide.

"At least I know how to please a woman."

Yugi rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, for some reason girls don't just fall into my lap like they do for you."

"Not true!" I protested. Yugi looked skeptical. A mischievous grin pulled at the corners of my mouth.

"What about Anzu?"

Yugi blushed and folded his arms in defense.

"That's ridiculous," he began. "Anzu and I have been friends since we were little."

"So? She's still very fond of you. She's just too shy to make the first move."

"You're trying to sabotage me."

I drew back in mock offense.

"Aibou! Perish the thought!"

Yugi searched my facial features for the hint of a lie.

"Whatever Yami, I can see right through you."

I looked down at myself sullenly.

"Yes. Yes you can," I replied in a dry tone. Yugi let out a long, tired sigh.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Sorry Yami."

"It's fine," I said reassuringly. "We should probably pay Kaiba a visit though. I won't be pleasing many woman as a spirit."

This elicited a quiet giggle, and I moved to ruffle Yugi's hair. An instinctive action, and one that was in vain as my hand, once again, simply passed through him.

The drive to Kaiba's mansion was a quiet one, and I got the impression through our mind link that Yugi was eager to ask a question. He said nothing, however, and I hardly wanted to pry.

Once we arrived at Kaiba's imposing and disturbingly phallic corporate skyscraper, we were greeted by an unenthused middle-aged secretary with wiry ashen hair that was pulled into an impossibly tight bun. She measured Yugi up over the half-moon lenses of her glasses, and I knew she was trouble before she even spoke. A fake gold wooden nameplate labeled her as "Minori S. Tsuki."

"Can I help you," she drew out in a squeaky voice that sounded worse than nails on a chalkboard. Despite her unpleasant manner, I was hardly surprised that Kaiba would hire a woman with a metaphorical broomstick shoved so far up her ass. It seemed like the type of person he would want on his "team."

"We… _I_ need to speak to Mr. Kaiba, please. It's very urgent," Yugi replied. Tsuki let out an audible 'Hmph' before she bothered to respond.

"I assume you don't have an appointment?"

Yugi twisted his bangs anxiously.

"No… but we're friends of his and we could really use his help."

Tsuki peered around him, scanning the apparent empty room with a confused glare.

"'We?' Who else is with you?"

"Oh, hah, I just meant me. Sorry."

I wondered if Yugi could feel the mental facepalm through our mindlink. Tsuki pursed her lips and returned to her computer screen.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Kaiba is very busy at the moment. He cannot stop his work to chat with every bored schoolmate who walks through the door."

I took control, forcing Yugi into his soul room with a mental squeak of protest.

'Let me take it from here,' I told him.

'Be nice!' Yugi demanded. He sounded somewhat fearful, but I just waved this notion away as him being socially awkward.

I had to take a shot in the dark. I needed to see Kaiba as soon as possible, and I knew this shrewd secretary was the key to my success in this endeavor. I noticed that, despite her age, her left ring finger was bare. She wasn't married. There were no pictures of kids or family sitting up on her desk. I assumed she had _never_ been married. I also assumed she was a huge feminist.

"Of course you would be too smart to see through that silly excuse," I began. Flattery will get you everywhere. Tsuki gave me a side-glance.

"The truth is, Miss Tsuki, that Kaiba has been treating my sister very poorly at work. She is stationed on the third floor, and her salary is 2,000 dollars less than the men's salaries, all of whom have the same or _less_ experience than her. He has also objectified her on more than one occasion, but my poor sister… she really needs this job and is too timid to stand up for herself. I was hoping I could speak to him directly, and maybe after our talk my sister's situation would improve."

Tsuki looked incredulous.

"2,000 dollars less! That is terrible." At this point Tsuki looked all around her before leaning in and lowering her voice. "You know, I _suspected_ from the beginning that he was sexist. I pick up little indications here and there, but this is by far the most outrageous thing he has done. You and your dear sister have every right to be upset!"

I nodded sincerely, hoping that the false lines of concern etched on my countenance were convincing enough.

"I'm so glad that you understand," I said. "It's a shame that these… primeval prejudices exist in this day and age."

Tsuki nodded harshly in concurrence, before hurriedly pulling up a window on her computer.

"You know, Mr. Kaiba doesn't have another appointment scheduled for a few hours, so I suppose you could have a quick chat with him, especially if it will improve the situation of his female workers."

I smiled warmly as the feminazi led me to the elevator. We went all the way to the top floor. I must say, the view from the top is pretty incredible.

Tsuki led me to the mahogany double-doors of Kaiba's main office. She gave a curt knock.

"Mr. Kaiba, you have a client."

I could hear him growl, even through the thick doorframe.

Tsuki pushed the doors open and whispered 'good luck' in my ear. I had to stifle a laugh. She closed the doors behind me, leaving me to my own devices. A poor decision, really.

Kaiba's back was turned to me. His desk faced a massive window that stretched all across the far wall, giving him a magnificent view of Domino. His office towered far above most other buildings within a 100 mile radius. From my position I could only make out the jagged horizon composed of the sharp, geometric structures inherent in modern architecture. A part of me detachedly wondered how much more amazing the view was at night, when all of the buildings came alive with bright lights of every hue. Despite this nicety, I doubted the CEO ever paused to look up from his computer. He didn't turn to look at me, either, when he finally asked who was there.

"It's me."

Kaiba was stiff for a moment before he tentatively spun around.

"Yugi?"

"No," I sighed. I was growing tired of people making that mistake.

Kaiba squinted at me in disbelief.

"Atem? I was told that you were dead."

"Who told you that," I questioned innocently. I had a good idea who had told him.

"That's none of your business," was the fast reply. I dragged an upright leather chair that was probably only meant for decoration from its designated corner and plopped down in front of the young CEO, crossing my arms and legs in the process. I hoped that my posture would intimidate Kaiba. In retrospect, I don't think _anything_ can intimidate Kaiba. Maybe next time I should bring up his daddy issues to take him down a notch.

"Either way, you'd better have a pretty good reason for interrupting me at work."

"I need some information on Abianes."

Kaiba sneered at me. I hate that sneer.

"My dealings with others, much less the _mayor_, are strictly confidential."

"He _kidnapped _Yugi and left me to die. I don't have the time to give you every single detail, but this man and his stupid fat brother are about to go on a killing spree if we don't do something about it."

"Why should I believe something so ridiculous," Kaiba demanded.

"Is it really so hard to believe?" I asked. "You've fought evil men before who were hell-bent to defeat me for the power I possess."

Then, something miraculous happened. Kaiba stepped down from his pedestal and began speaking to me like I was an equal human being.

"Listen," he started, "I can't go severing important partnerships like this without reasonable proof. If what you said is true, I'd still need police reports, eye-witness accounts… _something_ tangible. Your story isn't enough."

I searched my mind for the answer. How could I convince him? Despite the impressive array of powers the Millennium Puzzle allotted me, time travel was not one of them. My train of thought finally settled on Ishizu; she could pull us into my memories, and Kaiba could see first hand what had happened.

"I can _show_you what happened, but we'll have to take a trip first."

"Is it video surveillance?" Kaiba asked.

"Not exactly."

88888888888888888888888888888

Though I had become a regular fixture at the Domino Museum, Ishizu looked genuinely surprised to see that I had a disgruntled young CEO in tow.

"What is Kaiba doing with you?"

"We thought we'd have a 'best friends' day out," I replied drily.

Ishizu seemed unimpressed with my sarcasm. I decided to elaborate.

"Kaiba is going to help me, but he needs proof that Abianes is really as vile as I know he is. I need you to use your necklace to throw us back into the memory where the fat bastard _stabbed _me."

Ishizu sighed loudly.

"Am I simply a tool to you, pharaoh? I have done so much for you already, taken so many risks…"

"You're right," I interjected. "It's not like I've, you know, saved the _world_ or anything. I probably don't deserve these little favors."

"So be it," Ishizu said, defeated. She placed a slender hand on either end of her Millennium Necklace and shut her eyes in concentration. When the blinding light of the Sennen Eye on her forehead faded, Kaiba and I found ourselves suspended over the gathering from the abandoned Wal Mart, just before I met my untimely demise.

"_Hurry it along, pharaoh."_

Kaiba looked down at the scene with bewilderment. I watched my past self drop to his knees and levee a very familiar dagger just above his heart.

"Is that… is that Abianes!" Kaiba questioned. He already knew the answer.

"Yes, and his brother Khaba. You probably haven't noticed this, but Khaba has the Millennium Eye under that retarded eye patch. For the life of me, I have no idea how he managed to get his fat sausage fingers on it."

"_PHARAOH! Need I remind you of the _stakes _that are resting on this procedure!"_

Kaiba grimaced as my past self pulled the dagger down and lurched forward in agony. Even I had to look away as old aches threatened to resurface.

"I've seen enough," Kaiba said quietly, turning away from the scene before him in disgust.

"Take us out, Ishizu."

When we returned to Kaiba's office, the young CEO cancelled all other appointments for the day, and I hashed out the details of the entire situation to bring him up to speed. Once Kaiba understood Abi's motive and plan, we began constructing a scheme to get my physical body back.

Our conversation was interrupted by what was apparently a "very urgent phone call," according to Kaiba's personal secretary. He picked up the receiver, and his eyes widened when he heard the voice on the other line. I was on the edge of my seat in suspense, concerned about the vaguely terrified expression that marred the CEO's usually emotionless façade.

"I see. Yes, that is unfortunate. Of course. Yes… yes. Goodbye."

Kaiba placed the receiver in its cradle with a quivering hand.

"What has happened!" I demanded.

"Joben, the candidate who was to be Abianes' opponent in the coming election, has suddenly died of what morticians suspect to be a… _heart attack_."

_Fuck._ I knew this was coming, but I didn't know it would start so soon.

"Come on," Kaiba commanded, throwing open the double doors with more force than was needed. "We have to act fast."

I hastily pulled myself to my feet and matched his quick stride out to the rooftop. A Kaiba Corp helicopter was perched on a helipad marked with tiny, circular lights. Kaiba pulled a walkie-talkie from under his trench coat and told a "Steve" to get the fuck up there. While we waited for Steve (the poor guy was no-doubt frantic after hearing the malice in Kaiba's tone), I realized that I had ignored one very crucial part of this puzzle.

"Kaiba… just what _are_ your dealings with Abianes?"

The young CEO didn't turn to face me. His irritating stoicism remained, despite all of the frantic shit that had gone down in the hours prior.

"It's complicated."


	9. Political Bullshit

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Nine: Political Bullshit**

* * *

When Steve finally made it to the rooftop, he was panting and dripping with sweat. Kaiba glared down at him with arms crossed.

"What the hell took you so long!"

"I was… in the parking lot… when you paged me," Steve began, taking deep breaths every few words, "and when I got inside… the elevator was taking too long so… I just ran up the stairs."

Kaiba lowered his head and began massaging his temples with two tense fingers.

"You ran up 27 flights of stairs?"

"Yes sir!"

I cocked an eyebrow at this eager young pilot, distantly thinking that it probably would have been much quicker just to wait for the damn elevator.

"I'm hardly in the mood for your petty excuses," Kaiba replied before turning to the helicopter. "I need you to fly us to the mayor's estate."

"Yes sir!" Steve repeated. He treated Kaiba like an army lieutenant. It was both sickening and amusing.

We climbed into the helicopter and Steve quickly adjusted himself and started the blades. They churned above us, causing the craft to vibrate. Eventually Steve flipped some switches and gingerly pulled on the steering column until we were airborne.

I had intended to ask just what exactly we were doing, but between our steady ascent and the rhythmic hum of the blades, I was hypnotized in wonder. It was the first time I'd been in a helicopter, after all. I stared down at the passing landscape, watching detachedly as ant-sized cars flowed back and forth between perfectly square blocks of land and building. The aerial view reminded me of an old game Yugi once played called Sim City.

It took five minutes to arrive at Abi's mansion, and another minute to safely land. The craft had barely been set on the helipad before Kaiba slid from the doorframe and began striding briskly toward the rooftop entrance. I once again found myself following at his heels, struggling to match his pace.

As Kaiba neared the door, he sensed my presence behind him, and sighed in exasperation.

"You need to stay here. If Abianes sees you, it will ruin everything."

I grunted in annoyance, but made the dangerous assumption that the CEO knew what he was doing. As Kaiba spoke into the speaker requesting that the rooftop door be unlocked, I turned and sulked back to the helicopter, where I was subjected to mild torture as Steve animatedly showed me wallet-sized pictures of his daughter.

"She's an angel isn't she? She's only in kindergarten and is already making straight As!"

"Wow. That's amazing."

"I know, right!" Steve exclaimed with a wide grin, clearly not picking up on the facetiousness.

This continued for close to an hour. Steve's company had nearly driven me to jump off the roof when Kaiba finally emerged from the door and approached the helicopter with a victorious and slightly unsettling grin set on his narrow face.

"I assume you got what you came for?"

The young CEO retrieved a post-it note from his pocket with a phone number scrawled onto it.

"I know who his dump man is."

I shivered involuntarily. The slang was new to me, but it didn't take long to figure out that a "dump man" was a hired goon responsible for disposing of dead bodies.

"Ah… so where can we find the bastard?"

"I'm not sure. Abianes just gave me his cover name and number."

I stared distractedly at the highlighter-yellow slip of paper for a few moments before marveling at the apparent ease with which Kaiba got such personal information. Then I remembered to ask about the shady CEO's exact dealings with Old Abi.

"So tell me, Kaiba… why are you so chummy with Abi? Political figures aren't normally this quick to give out the number of their dump men, after all."

A dark shadow fell across Kaiba's face.

"It's not important right now."

I scoffed.

"It _is _kind of important," I retorted. "How can I trust you when you're BFFs with the man who _murdered me_!"

"You can't," was Kaiba's curt reply. "But I doubt you'll get very far without my help."

I lowered my gaze. He was right. I hated being kept in the dark. I _hated_ it. But I didn't exactly have a choice. I tentatively glanced down at the Puzzle around my neck. If Kaiba didn't explain his role in all of this in due time, I could always forcibly probe his mind for information.

Steve took us back to the towering rooftop of Kaiba Corp where he was told to get lost and leave us in private. After the noisy blades of the helicopter had stopped churning, Kaiba drew his phone and the post-it note from an inner coat pocket and made the call that I was both anticipating and dreading. I shivered involuntarily… my spirit was in tact, sure, but I wasn't exactly prepared to see the grisly image of my cold and beaten corpse.

I felt a mental shudder through Yugi's mind link.

"_Aibou… promise me something."_

"_Okay," Yugi replied nervously._

"_When we do find my body… promise me you won't look."_

I found it hard to choke out the words, even mentally. Yugi hesitated.

"_Yugi," I prompted, intentionally using his real name this time._

"_Alright… I promise."_

I was jarred from my conversation with Yugi when Kaiba's voice punctuated the air. Despite the situation and despite the immense pressure resting on his shoulders, his tone was unwavering and collected, and his posture betrayed nothing. He truly was one cold bastard.

"Is this Slick?"

I heard the vague, digitized reply of a man's voice from Kaiba's phone.

"I have a job for you."

* * *

Kaiba was given directions to the meeting place and in minutes we were in one of his cars – a black sedan with darkly tinted windows. To my surprise, he was driving _himself _rather than having a servant ferry him around. I supposed he didn't want to involve more people than was necessary.

The drive was quiet. We took a highway to the outskirts of Domino, a vacant area between cities where there were few houses and plenty of trees. Kaiba took an exit to a small town called Leitchfield, and as I detachedly stared out the window, lost in thought, it occurred to me that throughout all of this, I hadn't seen Mokuba once.

I took a side-glance at the young CEO. His face was expressionless… impossible to read, as always.

"How's Mokuba," I asked casually. Kaiba flinched. Something subtle, almost unnoticeable, flashed across his eyes. I shifted my weight, curiosity taking root.

Kaiba was silent for what seemed like a long time, as if he was deciding whether or not he should answer. Finally, he shut his eyes for a moment, his hand never faltering on the wheel, and when he next looked up there was a slightly pained expression on his countenance.

"Mokuba was diagnosed with a glioblastoma."

My expression softened. I felt ignorant.

"What is that?"

Kaiba gritted his teeth, as if I was an idiot for not knowing. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly now that his knuckles were turning white. When he next spoke, his voice was a low growl.

"It's a type of brain tumor. There is no known cure."

I inhaled sharply, the weight of what he was saying washing over me in waves. I felt terrible for bringing it up. I turned back to the window, wringing my hands anxiously.

"I'm so sorry."

Kaiba slammed his fist against the wheel in anger.

"I don't _need_ your pity."

He swerved a bit, and I saw the driver behind us throw her hands up in exasperation from the side view mirror. Despite my inherent dislike for the young CEO, I took a moment to admire his strength… a strength that even _I_ didn't possess. In spite of his brother being faced with death, he maintained a relatively calm demeanor. And he was _helping _me. He was helping me instead of sitting at his brother's side in the hospital…

The realization came slowly, creeping over me like a million puzzle pieces slowly being fit into place. I turned back to Kaiba with wide eyes, my mouth slightly agape.

"Abianes promised to save your brother… if you helped him get this power, is that it?"

Kaiba shot me a dangerous glare, and it was enough to answer my question. Despite the sensitive nature of the subject, I just _had_ to know more.

"But what could you have that he would want?"

Kaiba relaxed slightly, exhaling his anger in a long, quiet breath.

"Money, business skills and insider information. I have been running his campaign. It's much bigger than you think, Yugi."

I grunted when he mistook my name. Kaiba acknowledged my irritation but did not bother to correct himself.

"He wants to work his way up the ladder, using this 'power' he's been ranting about to stop anyone who tries to get in his way. He'll make a name for himself when all the known convicts in Domino start mysteriously disappearing under his watch, and once he has some national recognition, he'll start making the rise to Prime Minister."

Kaiba paused again, his grip tightening on the steering wheel once more.

"He needs me and my company then, too. He wants to pick back up on Gozaburo's research and revert Kaiba Corp to a weapons manufacturer."

For the first time since I met him, it occurred to me how truly gifted Kaiba was. The Duel Disk, the success of his company, even the personal jet he designed… it was all brilliant. If Kaiba were forced to pick up where his stepfather had left off, he could create truly terrible weapons at the forefront of technology… devices that could leave any other country powerless to their own fear. I went rigid and my chest constricted painfully. It was so much worse than I had imagined.

"So," I began carefully, "why are you helping _me_?"

Something like regret flashed across Kaiba's eyes, albeit briefly.

"I wanted to save Mokuba at any cost. All I knew then was that Abi had found a way to help him, and all he asked of me at first was money, so I funded his exploits. Everything just evolved from there. Had I known he intended to use me for these purposes, I wouldn't have gotten involved. But he knows too much now… I have to be careful."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"That still doesn't exactly answer my question."

Kaiba's gaze remained focused on the road ahead. There were fields on either side of us now, occasionally sandwiched between expanses of forest.

"If Abi derived this power from you, maybe _you_ could help Mokuba instead," Kaiba's words were even and deliberate. I winced. I didn't want to be in this situation. I didn't want the fate of his innocent younger brother in my hands.

"Kaiba… I've never been able to _heal_ anyone…"

"Have you tried?"

I rubbed my opposite arm nervously.

"Not exactly."

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched between us. Kaiba seemed deep in thought.

"I generally don't pay attention to the ridiculous things Ishizu tells me," Kaiba said at length, his voice growing quiet, "but she _did_ say the Puzzle had the ability to change a person's fate."

I lowered my head to the relic around my neck, staring at my blurry reflection in the gold.

"Yes," I admitted at length, albeit reluctantly. "I suppose you're right."

* * *

The meeting place turned out to be a worn-down gas station in the middle of Leitchfield. There was little civilization surrounding it, only a couple of small houses further down the road and a deteriorating auto repair shop across the street that had long since been shut down.

"Stay put," Kaiba commanded once more. It made sense; Slick would be alarmed to see me alive after having disposed of my bled-out corpse days before. Still, I hated being bossed around. But before I could argue, Kaiba was out of the car and strolling into the shady gas station, exuding an exacting confidence that seemed impossible in lieu of the circumstances.

I could make out the silhouettes through the tinted glass. Eventually Kaiba pulled something from his coat and handed it to another figure. They talked a while longer after that, and before long the young CEO was back in the car. He started the engine and pulled back onto the street quickly, clearly eager to get as far away from that gas station as possible.

"So what did you find out!" I questioned eagerly. Kaiba swallowed hard. His grip on the steering wheel was shaky. If _he _was reacting so openly to the situation, I _knew_ it had to be bad.

"He was easy to bribe," Kaiba began. "He gave me the coordinates to your body."

I exhaled in relief. I was eager to be done with the whole ordeal.

"We'll need to pick up a couple of shovels first," Kaiba continued.

"…why would we need more than one?"

Kaiba hesitated, as if he was gathering the courage for what he had to say next.

"He buried your body in six different pieces."

My mind reeled. I felt the bile rise in my throat, but managed to suppress it. Kaiba saw me begin to shake violently.

"Listen Atem, be a man and deal with it. We won't get this done any faster if you pass out."

I ignored him. I felt cold. Somewhere, distantly, I could hear an echoing sob rip through my hikari's mind link.


	10. Pride War

**A/N:** Just as I had almost finished this chapter, I read through it and decided I hated it, so I had to start over. I do have some good news though… I know with certainty how this story will end. And it's a _good_ ending, too. I'm excited about it. And since I actually have a direction now and an end in sight, you can expect faster updates. This chapter in particular may be a bit slow as it has to bridge several events together, but I assure you that shit starts getting real in the next installment. Enjoy!

**SELFLESSNESS AND SARCASM**

**Chapter Ten: Pride War**

* * *

My moment of shocked silence was short-lived as Kaiba pulled into the nearly vacant parking lot of a hardware store.

"Pull yourself together and let's get to work."

I was deeply sick of him barking commands, but in light of the recent developments, I couldn't muster the will to argue. He always seemed to be in a hurry, always striding quickly wherever he went, and I once again found myself struggling to match his pace. It's his damn chicken legs… he looks like he's on stilts.

The store was dark and sketchy and it smelled like sawdust. The florescent lights flickered precariously above us, and many of the bulbs looked to have burned out a long time ago. A scruffy looking old man with a trucker hat and an orange apron sat behind the only cash register and wordlessly shot us a puzzled expression when we walked inside. In retrospect, I guess he wasn't used to our sort dropping by his store… what with Kaiba's heavily-starched white trench coat and my own tight, leather apparel, not to mention the strange dagger tucked into my belt loop.

It didn't take long to find the shovels. We each grabbed one and returned to the cashier. He stared at us intently for a moment, as if trying to decipher us, before moving to ring up the shovels.

"This all fer ya?"

"Yes," was Kaiba's clipped reply. I half-expected him to make me pay for at least one of the tools, but he fished out a card from his neatly organized wallet and didn't so much as shoot me a side-glance as the disgruntled cashier processed the transaction.

"So, what 'er you kids doin' with those shovels?"

There was an obvious undertone of suspicion to his voice. I could hear Kaiba growl under his breath, but I chose to indulge the old man.

"We're just on our way to dig up some body parts," I said casually. Kaiba turned to glare at me heatedly, and the cashier froze for a moment, studying my face with wide eyes. Then he burst into laughter.

"That's a good one! I gotta say, you almost had me goin' there!"

I forced a chuckle. The old man waited for the receipt to print before handing over Kaiba's card and smiling at us with a wide, toothy grin.

"Well whatever yer doin,' you kids be careful out there."

Kaiba scoffed and grabbed the shovels, pushing one on me forcefully before storming outside.

I tossed my shovel into the back seat of his car and slid inside, only to see Kaiba gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"It's fine, he didn't suspect a thing."

"Is this a joke to you? You come to me asking for help and here I am, putting my reputation and company on the line, but you don't seem to care."

I was tired. Tired of the forced alliance with my closest rival, tired of the shady dealings with murderers, tired of not having my own body. I knew I'd probably regret what I chose to say next, but I had been at my breaking point for hours. I was too tense, too anxious, too pissed off. Something had to give.

"Oh, so you're just helping me out of the goodness of your heart?" I shot back coldly. "There's no ulterior motive here? You just suddenly felt charitable and decided to give your old pal Atem a hand? No, the only reason you're doing this is because I'm the only hope you have of saving your brother."

I knew I had made a grave mistake the moment the words left my mouth. Kaiba's arms suddenly relaxed. He turned to me, that unwavering stare piercing right through me, and I struggled to meet his gaze. He was trying to stare me down, and for what it's worth, I really wanted to look away.

"What?" I asked curtly, just to break the silence.

Kaiba replied by punching me squarely in the nose. His bony knuckles cut through my lip like butter. I was dazed for a moment, then I hunched over, holding my throbbing head in my hands. I pulled up to see blood gushing from my nose and upper lip.

"_Do not_ mention my brother again. I have plenty of reasons outside of personal interests to want to see Khaba put down."

I was still bent over, probing my face as if to try and find a way to piece myself together. As an afterthought, Kaiba grabbed a towel from the back seat and threw it at me.

"Clean yourself up," he spat before pulling Slick's old receipt from an inner coat pocket. From the corner of my eye I could see coordinates hastily scrawled on the back. All of the locations were labeled with the corresponding body part. How convenient. How fucking considerate of Slick to neatly document my appendages.

I groaned in pain and frustration and dabbed at my bruised face with the towel.

"It looks like all the burial sites are in the same general area," Kaiba commented as he studied the scrap of wrinkled paper, completely ignoring my muted grunts of pain.

"Wonderful," I retorted, my voice muffled from the towel.

The young CEO's skinny fingers danced across the LED screen of his GPS system as he entered the coordinates, and within minutes we were on the road again.

"Start out going North on I-75," came the vaguely female, digital voice.

The ride that followed was a quiet one. My busted nose and lip stopped bleeding after a few minutes and I righted myself. I pulled down the passenger sun visor and slid a small plastic door to reveal a lit mirror. I frowned at my reflection.

I could hear what sounded suspiciously like a sigh through our mind link.

"_Yami… his brother's in the hospital. Try to be more understanding."_

"_I'm just a little flustered given the circumstances. I'm about to dig up my body parts and to be honest Yugi I'm…"_

I hesitated. I was embarrassed enough as it was, having just been clocked in the face by my closest rival. I didn't want to further betray my usually cool and collected demeanor by admitting my fears.

Yugi must have sensed this.

"_I understand," _he said quietly.

After some more soulless directions from the disembodied voice of the GPS robot-lady, the words I had been dreading finally pierced the silence:

"You have reached your destination."

Kaiba pulled over on the side of the road and glanced behind him to ensure that nobody else was trailing us. He then pulled his GPS from its niche in the console, hopped out of the car, and shed his trench coat before grabbing the shovels from the back seat.

"Come on," he commanded. I slid out behind him and took a shovel, inhaling a deep breath to steady my nerves. Before long I found myself following the CEO into a shady forest bordering the highway. My footsteps grew more deliberate as we trudged through the thick forest carpet of dead leaves and sticks.

Kaiba was studying the screen of the GPS as we went along, and a meter in the top left-hand corner conveniently displayed our direct coordinates. Finally he stopped and jabbed his shovel into a patch of soft earth. The small mound of dirt was still loose and had obviously been upturned recently. I groaned.

"This should be your left arm," Kaiba said matter-of-factly.

He turned to his right and studied the forest floor until he found what he was looking for.

"See that spot right over there? That will be the right arm."

I nodded numbly and set off in the direction he had been pointing.

The patch of soft dirt stuck out like a sore thumb among the otherwise covered ground, cluttered with leaves, logs and weeds. I kicked the spade into the earth with the heel of my boot, and the resulting sound of metal against metal seemed to echo around me. I almost felt drugged. This whole situation was just so surreal.

As I dug, I felt something watching me from the corner of my eye. I slowly turned, tensing my body for battle, when I met the eyes of my silent watcher.

It was a squirrel. Even the damned squirrel knew there was something off about me.

"Fuck off," I said, kicking up a cloud of dust in the vermin's direction. The startled creature hopped back and bolted up the trunk of a great oak, getting lost in the gnarled branches above.

I hate squirrels anyway.

I dug down for a good six feet or so, to the point that my hands were growing raw with blisters. I started hitting the natural, densely-packed soil below that was thick with twisted roots and buried pebbles. Still, I had not found my arm. I began digging out from my initial hole, thinking that I may have missed the appendage by a few inches, but still I found nothing.

I stood there helplessly for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next, when I heard Kaiba calling for me. I pulled myself out of the dirt and brushed myself off as best I could before jogging back over to him.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked.

"No, have you?"

Kaiba glanced back at his own handiwork, another hole in the ground that was similarly empty.

"No."

I began to grow anxious. Had we been duped?

"Are you sure those coordinates are right?" I questioned.

"Of _course_ they're right, and it's obvious that someone else was digging here before us."

I then became aware of something vibrating in my pocket. I pulled out Yugi's phone and was a little taken aback to see that in all of the chaos of searching for my dismembered body parts, I had apparently missed several calls and at least as many text messages, the most recent of which was from Joey.

"Ryou is missing. Where are you," the message read. I narrowed my eyes in thought and slowly turned back toward the young CEO.

"Ryou is missing," I stated distantly. Kaiba looked up at me with a confused expression.

"I think I know where we can get answers," I continued. "We have to find that damned tomb robber."

* * *

After making a few phone calls without getting any useful information in return, we decided to begin our search at Rabbit Ridge Apartments. I hid my amusement as Kaiba first laid eyes on the repulsive place. The sun was starting to set by now, casting looming shadows across the already intimidating parking lot. A small group of angry-looking individuals was huddled behind a beat-up SUV and paused to glare at us as we pulled up in Kaiba's pristine, luxury sedan.

"You should just stay in here," I advised hastily. "If we leave this car unattended I'm pretty sure you'll lose your hubcaps."

"Fine."

I stepped out and once again found myself climbing the wrought iron staircase leading up to Bakura's apartment. I paused at a familiar landing and swallowed hard when I saw that the concrete was still stained a sickening brown color with old blood.

"_Yami…"_

"_Yes aibou?"_

There was silence between our mind link for longer than was comfortable.

"…_nevermind. It's nothing."_

Under any other circumstance I would have stopped to find out what was troubling Yugi, but there was too much at stake for me to pause to have a heartfelt conversation. I shook it off and climbed up the rest of the way until I was facing the door to apartment 310. It was crooked, having been hastily reattached with a pair of cheap hinges. I chuckled at my handiwork before tapping into the power of the Millennium Puzzle to strengthen my leg as I once again kicked the door down and sent it skidding across the floor. As I stepped inside, I was stricken by how terrible the apartment smelled.

To my relief, Bakura came bursting through the bedroom door, a livid expression on his narrow face. He wasn't in a sadistically playful mood like last time.

"I swear to every cursed god in the Underworld, if you break my door down _one more goddamn time_ I will rip out your carotid artery with my bare hands and feed it to the strays."

"Nice to see you again too, tomb robber. But I have an issue. You see, not only has my body gone missing, but now Ryou has disappeared as well. _You _wouldn't know anything about this, would you?"

Bakura's eyes narrowed dangerously. He looked a bit more insane than usual, and this worried me to some extent. He took a threatening step forward, and when he next spoke his voice was oddly strained.

"I might have found him by now if you weren't in my _fucking_ way!"

My mouth fell agape. So Bakura _didn't _have a hand in kidnapping Ryou?

"Well… where is he then?"

"Abianes has him… somewhere. It's the same stunt he pulled with _your_ vessel."

I frowned. What did the fat brothers want from Bakura? My gaze settled on the Millennium Ring hanging around his neck. I supposed that he _was_ powerful in his own right.

"So they're bribing you… like they did with me. But why?"

"It doesn't matter because they'll be dead soon enough."

Another whiff of the same putrid stench wafted to my nostrils and I grimaced.

"What the hell is that smell?"

For a moment, the vengeful smirk returned to Bakura's face.

"It's probably your festering body, _pharaoh_."

As soon as the words left his mouth, I found myself overcome with anger. I lunged forward and grabbed his collar with a trembling fist.

"What the_ fuck_ is wrong with you! How did you even know where to find it?"

Bakura frowned down at me before wrenching away my arm and stumbling backward.

"'Slick' is a personal friend of mine, and I needed to get back at you for the whole fiasco in the alleyway. I had a lot of fun things planned, you know. I was considering strapping a party hat onto your head and dangling it in front of Yugi's window, for starters."

I couldn't believe that the tomb robber had actually robbed _my_ tomb. After 5000 years, he still couldn't let go of that particular hobby.

I noticed then that Bakura had lowered his gaze to the floor, his heavy bangs casting a shadow across his angular features.

"It hardly matters now though," he continued. "Take your damn body. I have more important matters to attend to, as it were."

With that, he shoved me out of his way and sprinted down the stairs and into the shadows.

I stood there for a moment, utterly dumbfounded, before finally creeping to the open door of Bakura's bedroom, where the stench grew stronger. There, in a corner, was a collection of black, lumpy trash bags. My breath hitched in my throat. I was still for a moment, paralyzed with a fear that I could not name. I didn't hear the young CEO's footsteps approaching.

"I saw Bakura run off. What's going on?"

I startled at Kaiba's voice. He must have known what had happened just from seeing the expression on my face when I turned toward him. Wordlessly, he stepped forward and peered into the bedroom. His eyes rested on the pile of bags in the corner.

"I see."

I was trembling then, rooted to the spot. It is an odd thing to look upon the dirty trash bags in which the remnants of your defaced corpse are placed. I heard Kaiba sigh, and I was both grateful and shocked by what he said next.

"Call Ishizu and tell her we'll be there soon; I'll load up the bags. We can deal with Abianes once you're in your own body again."

* * *

I made the call, purposefully withholding the particularly grisly details of the state of my body. Still, Ishizu assured me that she would be prepared to conduct the ritual by the time we made it to the museum. I listened as Kaiba hefted the bags to his sides, all of them at once, and made for the open door frame.

"Come on," he said, his voice lacking its usual edge. I followed him out the door, keeping my distance, too disturbed to want to be near the remnants of my physical form. I watched as Kaiba quickly loaded his sickly burden into the back of his car and slammed down the trunk with more force than was probably necessary. He was most of the way back to the driver's side when he paused, his hand hovering over the handle.

"God damn it," Kaiba spat under his breath. Curious, I walked around the luxury sedan and followed the CEO's gaze to his wheels. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I _told_ you they'd take the hubcaps."


End file.
